


Einbrecher

by Lywinis



Series: One Shots -- Capsicoul [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Capsicoul - Freeform, Established Relationship, Gen, Kurt Wagner is a giant troll, M/M, Tony you little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 07:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bet was simple: steal something from Phil Coulson without him noticing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Einbrecher

The dare was simple: Take something of Phil Coulson’s without him being the wiser.

Kurt had proposed it one evening over drinks, the acrobat a little tipsier than normal (and while that and the resulting evening had been very nice indeed) the taunting words rang in his head the next day.

“If you were to steal something of Herr Coulson’s, something small, perhaps, I would think that you would rise in his estimation, at the very least.” Kurt had chuckled into his glass, his tail curling around Bruce’s arm. How he’d talked Bruce into joining in the fun, he would never remember, but he might be able to do it again if he pulled this off. Bruce was in his cups, too, sleepy-eyed and leaning against Tony’s shoulder, one hand warm on his thigh.

“I’d probably be impressed,” Bruce said, his words running together in a pleasant murmur that set Tony’s skin alight with goosebumps as his breath brushed Tony’s neck. “I’ve heard from Natasha that it’s almost impossible to prank him.”

“I can confirm that,  _Zwei Meines Herzens_.” Kurt took another sip of his vodka, holding out his glass for Tony to pour him more. Tony did so, only half-paying attention to the conversation. Bruce’s hands were very nice, after all, and he was running his fingers along the inside of Tony’s inseam while his other hand turned his mostly-empty cup around and around on the table. “We had a series of pranks that ended in a draw.”

“Really?” Bruce’s eyebrows shot up. “I never figured Coulson as one for stuff like that.”

“Oh,  _ja, Und Gott ist mein Zeuge_ , I am telling the truth! He is a worthy opponent.” Kurt took another draught of his vodka, grinning. “It started small, with things disappearing, it ended up with him taking the wheels off the Blackbird, hiding them in my closet, and then editing the video footage so that it appeared no one had been there at all.”

Bruce let out a low whistle. “I bet Summers was pissed.”

“Oh, to be sure! We got the wheels back on, but that did not top the prank that made me call it a draw.” Kurt’s eyebrows rose and he rolled his glass in his palms. “He sewed jinglebells into the underside of our mattress while we were out, then plastered a twenty by thirty poster on the ceiling of our bedroom. It was like a propaganda poster, such as the ones our Herr Rogers used to pose for. ‘I want you for SHIELD’, with his scariest glare.  _Mein Feuerwerk_  nearly brought the house down when she saw it. I have never seen Alison in such a state.”

Bruce snorted as he finished off the rest of his drink, setting the empty glass down and leaning on Tony. His hand trailed up Tony’s side, and he quite forgot about the thread of the conversation with both Bruce and Kurt’s lips on his neck.

* * *

 

It was an idle thought as he tapped through his Starktablet in the car. What could he steal that Coulson wouldn’t notice? It would have to be something personal, something that was obviously the agent’s, but the only thing he could think of were the trading cards – and those were actually in Steve’s possession the last time he checked. No fun in that.

Now that he thought about it, however, Tony wasn’t actually sure where Coulson  _lived_ , and that could be useful. SHIELD databases would know. He poked a bit at their firewalls, testing them out with rerouted scout packets sent from a Chinese proxy. Ah, Agent Timberstone had left herself a back door. Cute.

“JARVIS, compose an email to l.timberstone@SHIELD.gov – ‘Hey, babe, thanks for the key to the castle. Kisses, Tony.’” He spread out his keyboard and got to work, a few quick keystrokes getting him deep into the database. He had, at most, five minutes before they found him and shit bricks, so he hustled, digging into their human resources files for the Acting Director’s home address.

After three and a half minutes of farting around looking for something good on Sitwell (nothing) and seeing if Quartermain’s test scores were as low as he guessed (surprisingly not), he found it. JARVIS loaded it up in his GPS, and he could see that it was in Brooklyn.

“Really? Brooklyn? You couldn’t afford Manhattan?” Tony murmured, then realized that the agent probably couldn’t. He backed out of the SHIELD firewall, sent the email, and then tucked his phone in his pocket before he headed upstairs.

After showering, eating, and cuddling with Kurt, who was still sleeping when Tony got back up, it was late enough that he could go and see what was what. He debated on what he might swipe that the agent wouldn’t miss, and his memory hit on a Captain America tie pin he remembered Coulson wearing.

He’d gift wrap it and give it to Steve. That ought to be fun to watch.

The drive over there was short this late at night, and Tony pulled into the parking garage shortly after one am. Everything was quiet as he made his way over to the actual apartment building, climbing the stairs and facing the door. He wasn’t sure the agent was home, but according to all reports, Phil lived in the office, not the apartment.

He jimmied the lock, a useful skill learned at college (MIT taught him how to party in all sorts of ways), and Tony was inside. He moved through the darkened place with cat’s feet, heading for the bedroom. It had to be something personal. That tie pin was perfect.

The first room wasn’t a bedroom, from the glow of a streetlight that drifted inside. A desk and cabinets along the wall meant that this was a personal office; he backed out and shut the door. Listening for the sounds of life, he opened the door across the hall.

He could hear breathing.

Not just that, he could hear three people breathing. It wasn’t just him in the room, and he paused, for just a moment, weighing his options.

What was the worst Phil could do, tase him?

He moved to where the dim light from the street lamp showed the outline of a large chest of drawers. He found what he was looking for well enough, the tie pin laid out atop it, and he pocketed it. He could have crowed with triumph, but that would wake Phil and his bed buddy.

Speaking of…

Eaten up with curiosity, he crept toward the bed. There was enough light in the room and his eyes had adjusted well enough that he would be able to see. He padded forward, heading toward the foot of the bed.

The floor squeaked under his feet, and all hell broke loose.

Tony was slammed against the wall of the bedroom with enough force to make his teeth rattle in his head. There was yelling, mainly “Stop!” and “Ceasefire!” and he realized he was the one doing most of the shouting.

The bedside lamp clicked on, and Tony was staring into the eyes of a very angry, very naked Steve Rogers, who had him by the shoulders, one large hand curled into a fist and pulled back ready to pulp the intruder’s nose.

“Not the face, Capsicle, that’s how I make my living!” Tony put his hands up in a warding gesture, and Steve blinked in surprise, letting him go. He dropped to the floor, and he realized Steve had been so prepared to knock his lights out that he’d lifted Tony five inches off the ground with one hand.

He was also not as naked as Tony had originally thought. A pair of boxer briefs covered him, and while it left little to the imagination, he was glad it did at the moment, and he was more glad when Phil stepped around him, a pair of boxers the only thing on the agent’s person.

“Care to explain, Stark?” Phil’s eyes were a shade of gunmetal in the lamplight, an unhealthy shade for Tony if he didn’t answer – and fast.

“Okay, uh, I know this looks bad,” Tony began, scrambling to his feet. “I – look, can I just say I’m really glad neither of you are naked, can I just admit that because wow that is not a visual I needed – “

“ ** _Stark_**.”

“Right, why I’m here. It’s a funny story, and I have a lot of time to do it – uh. Right. There was a bet.”

Phil sighed. “Did he seriously put you up to it?”

“…what?” Tony squinted up at Phil.

“Mister Wagner. He put you up to that stupid bet, didn’t he?” Phil held out his hand. “My tie pin, if you please.”

“How did you…you creepy fucking ninja.” Tony reached into his pocket and deposited the pin in Coulson’s palm.

“I’ve known for a month he was going to try something,” Phil said. “He’s still sore about the poster.”

“Oh.” Well, didn’t Tony feel like an ass. He looked up at them. “So, uh, you two…?”

“Stark, out.”

“Going!”

The apartment door shut behind him, and he could hear the chain rattling on it as the burglar stop was engaged this time. He trotted down the stairs, shaking his head. He’d seen stranger things.

Maybe he should get Coulson a cake.

* * *

 

Phil sighed as he stared down at the cake on his desk. White birthday cake with red, white, and blue icing, there was a little Captain America figure stuck in the frosting.

Written in large, looping letters, someone had piped out “Congrats on the Sex”.

He was going to kill Stark.

**Author's Note:**

> I love drabble prompts on RP accounts. (By the way, if you're looking for RP accounts to follow on tumblr, and you're a fan of the Capsicoul pairing, you should consider following my Steve and I, butagoodman and foxedattheedges. Marvel Infinity is a pretty active RP group as well, so if you'd like to apply, be my guest!)
> 
> Tony WOULD get Phil a cake. :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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